2 Grandma

At that time, I was young and didn't quite understand what was happening, not what I understood now. Yes, my mother ran away with a young man and in the process abandoned my father and I. And I will always hate her for that because ever since that day, my father was never the same. He loved her very much, more than he ever loved me. This was something I could now understand. When I would go to sleep, my father would drink his sorrows away with alcohol. But he would only do it when I was sleeping. I guess he didn't want me to see him in such a vulnerable state. But what he didn't know was that I knew all along. He thought I was sleeping but I was actually watching him from behind the door until I got tired enough to go to bed. I didn't say anything because I didn't want him to worry. In the morning he would always give me the warmest smile and pretend that nothing happened but at night he would always cry his heart out.

This would continue to repeat as the cycle went on and on again. This became part of my daily routine as I continued to watch my father chug down bottles of alcohol while standing behind the door, hiding away from sight. But one night it was different. This time I watched as he finished his bottles of alcohol, as usual, however, after he finished, he went to the cabinet to grab something, however, I wasn't sure what it was. He opened it and whispered some words that I wasn't able to hear before chugging down whatever was in it. He smiled and sat there for a while. Occasionally, he would run to the trash can and puke in it. This greatly disgusted me as I wondered what made him throw up so much. However, after that, he passed out on the table. It seemed normal to me at the time since this had always happened so I didn't worry about it and walked to the bedroom as I was already feeling tired.

I got up early the next morning, ready to see my father cooking scrambled eggs and bacon while he says what he always says, "Good morning sunshine."

I walked into the kitchen ready to see his warm smile again, however, this time I didn't see it. I saw him still on the table just lying there. I walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder.

"What are you doing daddy? Wake up, aren't you gonna make me some food?"

But he wouldn't budge. Why wasn't he waking up? I tried and tried again but nothing seemed to work. So I searched through my father's jacket which was thrown onto the kitchen counter lazily and looked for his cell phone. After finding it, I dialed 9-1-1. I remembered my father telling me that whenever something was wrong, always call 9-1-1 and everything will be fine. So that's what I did. I told them that my father wasn't waking up and tried my best to answer their probing questions, however, I was just a kid. How could I understand the kind of questions they were asking? So I went next door and knocked on their door. A young woman with long, straight black hair answered with a surprised look which quickly turned to a smile. I gave her the cell phone and asked her politely to answer the questions that the operators were giving. She seemed very confused but still answered the questions, however, I wasn't sure what she told them. After what seemed like forever, she handed the phone back to me with a worried look.

"Little girl, what's your name and why were you calling the police," she asked with a kind smile.

I looked up at her while holding onto the cell phone tightly, afraid that it would fall, "My name is Macy Mueller and I called 9-1-1 because daddy said that whenever something was wrong, they would be able to help."

"What is wrong Macy?" the woman asked with concern.

"My daddy won't wake up." I replied.

She looked quite worried after hearing what I said. She turned around and ran back into her house before coming back out. Along with her came a tall man with blonde hair and a small mustache. It looked quite weird.

The woman smiled at me again and asked, "Where is your daddy?"

"Over there." I pointed to the direction of my house which was next door.

The woman and the weird man both looked at each other before turning back to look at me, which was quite unusual at the time.

Then this time, it was the weird man that asked me something, "Can you show us where your dad is?"

I nodded my head to what he asked and started leading the way. I walked them towards my house and into the kitchen where my father still laid. I smiled at them and pointed my finger to my father.

"This is my daddy. Can you help me wake him up because he's still sleeping?"

After hearing my words both the weird man and woman's faces turned dark. The weird man slowly walked towards my father and looked at him. He then placed two fingers on my father's neck and then under his nose. I was confused. Why were they doing this rather than waking him up? After a couple of minutes, the weird man said something to the woman. After understanding what he had said, the woman then walked towards me. She smiled warmly, the kind of smile my father used to give me.

"Macy, could I borrow the phone you're holding onto."

"Why?"

"Because I need to call 9-1-1."

"Didn't I already call 9-1-1?"

"Yes, but we need to call them a second time."

I looked at her confused. Don't you only need to call them once? However, I still gave the cellphone to her because she asked nicely. She smiled and took the phone. She then proceeded to dial 9-1-1 and started talking. However, she seemed cautious about what she was saying and then left the kitchen to talk on the phone somewhere else. Why didn't she want me to hear what she was saying?

The weird man walked up to me and smiled. He had very uneven teeth that made him look even weirder. He gently held my hand and led me outside the house. Why was he taking me outside the house?

"Where are you taking me, mister? I still need to wake my dad up."

"We'll find a way to wake your dad up, for now, let's wait outside okay."

I pouted my lips. Why was he forcing me to stay outside, however, I complied and waited with him? After a while, the woman walked out of the house and towards us. She kept her warm smile on, however, I could tell that something was bothering her.

"What's wrong?" I asked while tilting my head to the side.

She looked at me and just continued to smile. She didn't say anything at all. We waited outside for a long time and soon I felt very tired. My vision started getting blurry as I tried my best to stay awake at a time like this. But I just couldn't. I closed my eyes and let my body relax. I felt a pair of huge arms holding me as I was sleeping. They felt like daddy but wasn't quite the same.

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I sat there on the cold hard floor as I continue to hear people whisper about me and my father. It was suffocating. Why was this happening to me? Why? Was I going to be alone forever? I wanted to get up but I just couldn't. My legs felt numb and didn't have the strength to do anything anymore. So I continue to listen even when I didn't want to. Then when I thought the torture was going to continue, a pair of frail and wrinkly hands covered my ears for me. All I could hear were muffled noises now. It felt much better. Then I heard a hoarse yet angelic voice whisper to me.

"Don't worry, I'm here. I'll take care of you. Grandma's here."

I turned and looked at the frail yet strong and independent elderly woman smiling at me. It was then at that moment that I knew I was safe.